


Sounds like something that I used to feel

by Dylanobrienisbatman



Series: Blarke [7]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 2199 calls, Bellarke, Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Endgame Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, F/M, Hostage Situations, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, POV Bellamy Blake, POV Clarke Griffin, Parent Clarke Griffin, Protective Bellamy, Rescue Missions, Reunions, Season/Series 05, Some of spacekru come down with eligius, madi gets kidnapped by eligius, madi spills the beans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 16:02:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14060478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dylanobrienisbatman/pseuds/Dylanobrienisbatman
Summary: It's been over six years since Clarke has had to be at war with anyone, and she had hoped it would stay that way, but she is willing to make an exception to save her daughter from whoever these kidnappers are. She is going to rescue her, whatever it takes, willing to fight anyone she sees to get her back. When she finds someone unexpected, she thinks maybe they might have a shot at surviving this.It's been over six years since Bellamy had to fight for his life, but being kidnapped and held hostage puts that fire back in someone. He's not sure how he's going to get out, though, until someone unexpected shows up.Maybe, for the first time in his whole life, his luck is looking up.Prompt:Write the Bellamy/Clarke reunion a la Stefan/Elena in season 2, when she is hiding in the pantry and Stefan shows up with Klaus, and they see each other, but they can't speak or even interact, but he knows she's there.Im not sure how to explain it better than that! Season 5 reunion speculation, based on this prompt and what we've seen in the trailer!





	Sounds like something that I used to feel

The Eligius ship had come down, on an early morning, six years after the world burned. The sun had been low on the horizon, cool air from the night passing still leaving chicken skin on her neck, when she saw the trail of flame crossing the sky and ran to find Madi. When she realised it wasn’t her friends, she hunkered into survival mode, harder and faster than she ever had before, fear rising up her spine when she looked at Madi, her daughter in all but blood, sometimes even in blood when she thought about the science behind it all. They hid, in their little home, tucked away in the woods, until the intruders got close, and then hid in the rover when they needed to move, trying to avoid a fight until they couldn’t anymore. The ship had been down for just two days when she made a mistake.

She went to find food on her own, leaving Madi to watch the rover, and when she came back, she was gone.

Their belongings had clearly been dug through, ransacked isn’t a bad word to use. Thankfully their dried food stores were hidden somewhere else, and she had the guns on her person, but Clarke could barely even focus on what was missing, because her mind was racing, her heart was beating out of her chest, and she had started to sweat almost instantly. She could feel herself panicking, and she wasn’t sure what to do to help keep herself calm but she knew she had too. She had to do something. She had to save her daughter. 

She followed the tracks left by the intruders, finding their ship in a large clearing. It was huge, towering stories, almost as tall as the trees, and hulking. There were a few people walking the perimeter of the clearing, with huge weapons strapped to their backs. Others were sitting in groups on tree logs and in the grass. They looked like normal, regular people, and she would have considered, in another lifetime, trying to get to know them. It had been so long since she had contact with anyone other than Madi, but now they had Madi, and it wasn’t another lifetime, so she didn’t. Instead she waited. She tucked herself high into a tree, with dried fruit and meat, and watched them, observed, analyzed their every move for two full days, until she saw them bring Madi outside, a heavy collar around her neck and handcuffs around her small wrists. They led her outside, and to a table they had set up full of different plants, and Clarke couldn’t hear her, but she was pointing to this plant or that. She looked terrified, but only in a way that Clarke would be able to tell. She was stony, but her hands shook a little, and her eyes darted to the tree lines, taking in all of her surroundings the way she had been taught. Clarke felt her heart leap into her throat, the fear that had taken over her body the last two days rising to the back of her skull, but somehow calming, knowing that, if nothing else, she was alive.

When the sun went down, she clambered down from the tree, crept through the darkness around their sentries, and sprinted across the clearing and into the ship.

____ 

Bellamy really should have thought this through more carefully.

Since landing on Earth almost 7 years ago (actually really since his sister was born if he thought about it) any encounter with anyone other than his family and friends had ended in some kind of major problem. Any encounter with someone other than his mom and sister put them all at risk when he was growing up. Attempting to let his sister meet other people ended in his mom being floated (which was his fault, if he let himself go there. He tried not too.). Making a deal with the guard to kill Jaha to be with his sister had ended in him hurtling towards the earth, and almost being killed by some dickhead delinquent with a score he needed to settle. The grounders had started a war against kids who dropped to earth in a glorified tin can, the mountain men had kidnapped his people to drain them of their bone marrow and strung him up like butchers and turned Lincoln into a raging addict. Azgeda had captured him, at least twice, and led to literal war. He wasn’t sure why he thought popping into a barely functional escape pod and letting themselves be drawn into the gravity field of some foreign ship full of strangers would be a good idea.

Too bad they had no other option.

Raven and Murphy stayed behind, packing Bellamy, Echo, Emori, Harper, and Monty into the escape pod and launching it off, working towards finding their own way home, and the five of them boarded the strange ship full of strange people, the definition of flying by the seat of your pants if anyone ever asked him to explain it. When they docked, and exited the pod, they found themselves in a mostly empty ship. Or at least, that’s how it seemed. 

They were wandering around the ship, trying to find someone, anyone who could help them identify who these people were, and tell them it was safe to get back to earth, when they came up on a room full of people. Except these people were all asleep, literally in cryo-sleep. There had to be at least 150-200 of them, probably more, if this wasn’t the only room, which, judging by the size of this ship, it wasn’t.

Echo spoke up first, reminding them that this many people, this was more of an army than a settlement, and they should be wary. Her time as a spy taught her a lot about caution and situational awareness, he had to give her that. They probably should have listened to her. If they had, they might not have been taken by surprise by the few conscious people on this ship. They might not have been beaten, dressed in shock collars, and taken prisoner.

What seemed to make it even worse, somehow, was that, even though these people had shock collars and handcuffs and shock lashes to keep them in check, they didn’t have any kind of prison cell, so they had just tossed them into any available empty room, and as far as he could tell, there weren’t even locks on the doors. These people didn’t even have the ability to take prisoners, in the literal sense, and here they were, prisoners in empty bedrooms, or a broom closet like himself, chained to random hook rings or cabinet door handles. Five people who had survived earth, mountain men, grounders, ALIE, and the literal second apocalypse, and they were chained up, in separate rooms, all around a giant hulking ship that wasn’t even built to hold prisoners, hostages if he was being serious, by people who had been in cryo-sleep probably pretty recently, hurtling towards the earth for the second time in his terribly unlucky life.

Echo was going to be insufferable.

So much for listening to Clarkes last request and leading with his head

The ship came to a really rather gentle landing on earth, he supposed that was what happened when you had a ship built for reentry to earth, and not just an escape pod, and for the first time in over half a decade, he felt gravity settle heavy over him. He thought maybe he would enjoy it, enjoy the fact that he was back on earth, if he wasn’t chained to a unit of shelves full of what looked like nutrition packs and sanitising supplies. He heard Emori yelling about something in the hallway, what had to be a few hours after they landed, and he assumed they brought her outside to help them figure out how to live on this planet. They probably chose the one who seemed like the least amount of a threat objectively, he thought with a laugh. Emori would slit their throats with her own untrimmed nails if they crossed her. She was probably the second most dangerous only to echo, because echo would rip your jugular out with her teeth if you got close enough. The two of them were not made to be caged animals. These idiots were in for a treat. (He also thought for a second about the hell they were in for when John came down if they hurt Emori. These idiots need better self-preservation instincts.)

They had been on the ground for two days, and he still hadn’t seen the sun, or breathed fresh air that hadn’t been funnelled through the air ducts of this ship, when he heard the voice of someone he didn’t know screaming in trig. His heart leapt at the idea that maybe someone from the bunker was here. Them being kidnapped wasn’t ideal, but the fact that they were here, that meant Octavia was nearby. That Miller was nearby, that Kane and Abby and Indra might be close. That they might be fucking rescued at some point. This voice sounded young and was very _very_ angry.

“My mom is gonna find you, and she’s gonna kill you for taking me” the voice yelled, in English this time. Whoever she was, her spirit made him smile.

He hoped this mother wouldn’t mind helping him and his friends too if she came across them. Maybe he could pull the “brother of the new _Heda_ ” card, if it came to that. He hoped this mom would hurry up, either way, his wrists were starting to chafe.

_____

Clarke honestly had no idea what to do. She was creeping through the hallways of a foreign ship, gun slung across her back, and had NO idea where to go. She had no idea where Madi might be, or who these people even were, and she was panicking. She heard footsteps coming in the hall around the corner and backed herself into an empty room until they passed. The footsteps passed, and she stepped back out into the corridor, peeking through every tiny window on every door, looking for Madi around every corner. She figured the holding cell they kept her in would be towards the middle of the ship, but honestly, she could hardly figure out which was up in this place.

She heard footsteps, and every three or four corners or so she would have to tuck herself into an open room (none of these doors seemed to be locked, or to have anyone in them, which struck her as odd, but she kept that thought in the back of her mind, she had other things to worry about at the moment) to avoid someone walking by, a voice heard at the end of a hallway or footsteps approaching from a nearby corridor alerting her. Being alone for so long, just her and Madi, she was very good at noticing sounds made by other people. It had been so long since she had heard any voice but Madi’s, any footsteps by her own soft ones, always followed closely by Madi’s light tread. Her body was on high alert, ears perked up like some kind of forest creature on the lookout for hunters, all her nerve endings humming with fear, anxiety, and adrenaline. Would it be sick to say she almost missed this type of feeling? No being hunted, not worrying about the people she loved, but literally anything happening other than just sitting around, basically alone.

She turned a corner, coming face-to-back with someone from the ship. They hadn’t noticed her, whether that was their luck or hers she didn’t really have time to consider, because if she killed them now, the rest of this ship would be alerted to her presence, and she’d never find Madi. She backed herself back around the corner, feeling on the wall for an open door, ANY open door, and she finally found a handle that turned easy under gentle pressure, so she pressed it down, gentle, and used her body to back the door open and step inside letting it close gentle in front of her, leaving her in some sort of small closet. She stood silently for a moment, peering out the tiny window at the top of the door, trying to see if the man in the hallway had passed, before the hairs on her neck stood up, and she realized there was someone else in the room with her. She slung the gun around her front, slowly, even though they could definitely see her doing it, lifted it to shoulder level (her brain skipped back to that day, so very long ago in that bunker, pointing at red targets, and a brown mop of curls over a freckled face telling her “just a little higher”, she pushed it aside), and turned, prepared to shoot whoever it was at a moment’s notice, prepared to kill another person for the first time in over half a decade, because saving her daughter was worth whatever the cost.

Her breathe evaporated from her chest, like she had been punched, when she was met with dark brown curls falling over a freckled face, with dark brown eyes that she would know anywhere.

_Bellamy._

_____ 

It had definitely been at least two days since he had heard that girl, yelling and screaming down the halls. He had figured out, by banging on the walls, that Echo was in the room/closet behind him, the back wall of the closet was a wall in her room, and if they spoke into the vents they could hear one another. They spoke in Trig, so these strangers wouldn’t be able to understand, trying to figure out if they could escape. It didn’t take them long to come to the conclusion that they couldn’t. Someone came in, twice a day, to bring him out of his room to a toilet, and to bring him back with some kind of food and water. At least they didn’t intend to starve him to death. The guard had just left, for the last time that night probably, he would be willing to bet it was almost the middle of the night, but they hadn’t been too concerned with keeping them on a schedule, when the door handle jiggled, like someone was testing to see if it was locked. His pulse rose just slightly, because they hadn’t locked him up yet, and he wasn’t sure why they’d start now. He whispered through the grate to Echo, to ask if they had locked her door, and she said she didn’t think so. The handle turned all the way, but so slowly he thought maybe it was a mistake, someone checking a room or going to the wrong place. The door crept open, and a blonde-haired woman slid into the room, back to him, and closed the door behind herself, never turning, not even seeming to notice him. But he certainly noticed her.

His first thought was that she looked remarkably like Clarke from the back, but he shoved it from his mind, for just a second, until his brain caught up with his eyes and it was the only thing he was thinking, the only thought in his entire brain. She was a little taller, sure, and her hair was shorter, but he’d know that hair anywhere, he’d know _her_ anywhere. He tried to shove it down, to remind himself that it wasn’t her, it couldn’t be her, she was dead, but his eyes kept tricking him, kept proving his brain wrong every second. Whoever she was, she finally seemed to catch up with the idea that there was someone else in the room. She pulled her gun around her front, and pulled it up on her shoulder, pausing, and then lifting it just a little higher, _like he had taught her_ , and then turning around.

He was glad his eyes had given him enough information for his brain to be semi-accustomed to the idea that it could be her, because when she turned around, and he was face with the full force of it, her face, her eyes, her hair, _her_ … it was the only thing he could process. She was the only thing he could process.

_Clarke._

____

She still had her gun pointed at him, she realised after a second, so she brought it down quickly, almost ramming it into the shelving unit behind her, still knocking over a bucket of something. The noise rang out through the tiny closet into the hallway, and both of their eyes widened in shock and fear. He beckoned her with his head, and she knew what he meant immediately, tucking into the space between the shelves behind him, ducking down and trying her best to hide her blonde hair beneath her coat, hoping she blended into the wall. Someone opened the door, and Bellamy sneered at him. 

“knocking shit over now, are you? Like a puppy that needs to be let out or something?” The man sneered back. 

“Well, being let out is number one on my list of things to do. Number two is kick your ass, in case you were taking a poll or something.” Bellamy’s voice was rough, like he hadn’t had enough water, but hearing it, after six years, her heart leapt into her throat, and she could feel her eyes stinging just a little.

The man rolled his eyes, pressing his lit-up shock baton gently into Bellamy’s chest, making him grunt, before shutting the door behind him. Someone banged on the wall behind her head.

She waited a solid minute before crawling out from behind him and standing up, making sure he was gone and giving herself a chance to take in Bellamy where he can’t see her. He seemed taller and was definitely broader, and from the back she could tell his hair was longer now and curled a little at the base of his skull and around his jaw. He looked good, and he looked _real_ , which was really all she cared about in the end.  When she finally came around and stood in front of him, the look on his face was something she’d never seen before, some mixture of shock, like he was seeing a ghost, joy, like seeing him was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to him, relief, that it was her, or maybe that she just wasn’t someone else, and something that looked a little like… she let her mind wander for just a second before snapping back into focus. She put her finger to her lips, ignoring the way he followed with his eyes (or trying too), and then pulled out a lock pick from her jacket pocket and was about to start working on his neck collar when the door handle started turning again.

She flung herself back behind the shelf again just in time for the man to come back. He didn’t speak, and Bellamy just glared at him. She could feel him seething, angry instead of terrified or concerned, just like always. The man grabbed Bellamy’s wrists, to lead him away, and that was when he started putting up a fight. He struggled against the man’s strength, until he was being shocked again, and she had to cover her mouth to keep from yelling out for him. The guard unhooked his handcuffs and spun him around to lock them behind his back, giving her one more chance to see his face. His eyes found hers, and he just stared at her, the look on his face almost pleading. His eyes darted to the wall behind her 3, 4, 5 times, trying to tell her something. It took her a second, so he yelled out, asking where they were taking him, and then something in trig. The trig startled her, so much that she didn’t have time to process what he was saying, but then a voice came from the vent behind her, yelling back at him in trig, and he found her eyes again while he was being pulled from the closet. He was telling her to go to them, whoever was on the other side of the wall. To find them, to get help. 

She nodded, just soon enough that he saw it before the door closed between them.

She waited, listening to his angry yelling get softer as he was presumably dragged through the halls, and then slipped from the closet, her mind still fuzzy from seeing him again, and checked the windows on every door until she found the one with someone chained up inside, cracking the door open and sliding in, coming face to face with Echo.

The ice nation soldier, to her credit, looked less shocked than Bellamy had. She had heard her own name, her real name and the name the grounders had given her so very long ago, so she assumed Bellamy told Echo she was there. They took a second to stare at each other, before she raced over, pulling out her lock pick again, getting the collar off of her, and undoing her handcuffs next. They took a second to hug, and then they pulled apart. 

They had friends to save.

___ 

He wasn’t sure he had actually breathed at all since she turned around. They stood there for what felt like hours, but somehow also felt like the shortest moment of his life, before she seemed to remember that she could drop her gun and knocked over a bucket in the process. The sound was loud enough to draw attention to them, he pleaded with his eyes to her to hide, somewhere, anywhere. She ducked behind him between two large shelving units, and he tried to make himself larger, broad and tall and somehow dense enough that they wouldn’t see her. The man that came back was different from the one who had just left, and this was one Bellamy liked even less. He glared back at the sneering face that entered the room.

“knocking shit over now, are you? Like a puppy that needs to be let out or something?” Bellamy rolled his eyes.

“Well, being let out is number one on my list of things to do. Number two is kick your ass, in case you were taking a poll or something.” He felt himself puff his chest out, just a little, and widen his stance, making himself bigger and more threatening.

The man rolled his eyes, lighting up the shock baton in his hand and tapping him in the chest. He grunted, but stood his ground, and hear Echo bang on the wall at the sound the baton made. The man shut the door loudly behind him, but Bellamy kept his stance big, in case he came back. He heard Clarke move behind him, after a moment, and when she came around to the front again he felt his heart leap into his chest.

She was just as beautiful as he remembered, even more so because his image of her had become fuzzy over the years. Raven had found the old wristband profiles on the data system on the ring, and the image of Clarke, barely 18, clean and unbroken by time and so much death, flashed back at them with the word TERMINATED spread across her face. This Clarke, older and more worn, scars and sadness behind her eyes, was so much better, in every single way, than that image of the Clarke who had been lost too young to fire, and to not enough time.

This Clarke, this perfectly imperfect Clarke, with so much blood on her hands, with so much loss in her eyes, with so much _hope_ for their futures, this Clarke that had always promised him that they would do this _together_ , this was the Clarke he loved. And she was here.

He was not nearly done drinking in her face when the door handle started turning again. She flung herself back behind him, and the same snarling guard came back into the closet only seconds later. He grabbed his wrists, starting to try and drag him out of the room. He usually wasn’t one to resist, but the idea of leaving, and maybe not seeing her again, his anger boiled up to the crown of his head and he lashed out. He started angrily struggling, trying to pull free from this man’s grip. He was stronger than whoever this guard was, training with Echo on the Ring had kept him fit, and he was broader and a much better fighter than he used to be, and almost got free. The guard pulled his shock baton and shoved it into his stomach, doubling him over and giving the guard the upper hand. He grabbed his hands and unhooked the cuffs, turning him around to hook them behind his back.

He took the chance to look at Clarke again, to try his best to drink her in, to remember every line and curve of her face, to commit this older, more beautiful Clarke to memory. She found his eyes, and he tried to signal to her that Echo was in the room behind, eyes darting to the wall. She looked confused, like she understood that he wanted her to check the room but didn’t know why, so he just yelled.

“LET GO OF ME, WHERE ARE YOU TAKING ME!?” he was screaming. He didn’t know what to do. She had to find Echo, she had to get them out of here, she had to save them, so he could have a chance to tell her. So, he yelled for Echo to hear.

“ECHO! DISHA DICKHEAD STE TAKING AI AWAY, BA KLARK STE HIR! MAKE BIDA NOISE KREI SHE NA FIG AU YU” He didn’t even know if it made sense, his trig was still rusty sometimes and the stress of this moment didn’t help, but she seemed to get the picture.

“KLARK? LIKE WANHEDA?” he cringed at that ancient name, laced with too much poison to ever be said without malice. “NOU GET DAUN BELOMI, OSO NA GET YU AU KOM HIR. OSO NA GET YUMI OGEDA AU KOM HIR.” He barely had a chance to find Clarke’s eyes again, as he was being dragged from the room, but the look in her eyes, he knew she understood. She nodded just as the door closed behind him. 

He kept struggling as he was dragged into the hall, and then he was dropped into a larger room, and the door closed behind him. He was banging on the door, angry, yelling in trig at the guard, until he turned around, and was face to face with a little girl. She couldn’t be older than 10 or 11, and she looked fierce, but in the way most kids do, to hide their fear. Her eyes widened when she finally took in his face, and his yells died in his throat when she finally spoke.

“You’re Bellamy.”

“What?”

“You. You’re Bellamy.”

“Yes… I’m Bellamy. And… who are you?”

“I’m Madi. My mom told me a lot of stories about you.”

“Your mom?” She smiled, nodding at him. “who is your mom?” He couldn’t think of anyone in the bunker who would tell stories about him, he wasn’t exactly well liked by the grounders. She couldn’t mean...

“Clarke.” His eyes widened.

“Clar- SHE’S your mom?” He couldn’t hide his shock.

“yeah, she told me all about you. You’re Bellamy. You’re her favourite. She is going to be so excited that you’re here!” She smiled, clearly entertained by his widening eyes and unhinged jaw. “She told me about you, and your sister, and all of your friends.” He opened his mouth to ask her… something, anything. To get her to stop talking so he could wrap his brain around what she was saying. “She called you every day you know.” That caught him off guard, and shut him up.

“She what?”

“She has this old radio,” the little girl, Madi, kept talking, even though Bellamy was sure he looked like he was actually going crazy. “and she used it every day. She called you, and would tell you about her day, about me, just talk about how much she missed you and all that.”  
“She called us every day?”

“No, not “us”. She didn’t call Raven or Monty or Harper. She called YOU. She always started your name. She called Bellamy.”

“…what?” she giggled.

“You know, I shouldn’t be surprised you look so crazy right now. If she loves you that much I should have known you love her too.” He choked on nothing but his own spit and the air he was breathing.

“Loves me?” he choked it out, trying to make the words make sounds.

“Yeah. Come on, Bellamy. She called you every single day for 6 years and 7 days. If I remember right, the last count I saw was 2,201 days. She obviously loves you.”

“Sure… yeah…” He wasn’t sure how to make his mouth move, which was clearly amusing the young child in front of him. She couldn’t stop giggling, which would be cute if he wasn’t so confused and dazed. “what all did she tell you about me?”

She started talking, telling him her favourite stories, ones he had lived, told with flare and fluff, clearly told over and over, so well that she spoke in a rhythm, like she was singing it to him. Stories of them, of him and Clarke doing crazy thing, saving people, saving the human race. She was in the middle of the story of him shooting the grounder who had taken her hostage through the windshield of a car with barrels of hydrazine and a king in the back when the door handle started to twist. He stood up, backing the little girl against the wall, shielding her with his whole body, making himself tall and broad again. The door opened, and the flash of blonde the came through made his breath catch in his throat, in a good way. She loved him. Her own daughter, this little girl (who he had decided he would protect with his own life, if it came to that, about 30 seconds before) had said it, with such confidence that somehow, he couldn’t even question it. She came into the room, Echo hot on her heels, and Madi ran to her. They hugged, spinning in the middle of the room like some kind of movie scene, tears crawling down Clarke’s cheeks. She undid the neck collar and the handcuffs, and then moved on to him, sending Madi to hide behind Echo.

She came over, and hurried on his neck collar, her fingers brushing his neck, sending chills down his spine. When she came back around front to work on the handcuffs, he found himself just staring at her face. Taking in every beauty mark, every tiny scar, every stray strand of hair and eyelash. She was _real_ , honest to god flesh and bone, in front of him after _six whole years_. She unhooked the cuffs, sliding them off, and when she looked up to meet his gaze, the words just slipped out.

“I’m in love with you.” He whispered, so soft he barely heard them, and Echo and Madi across the room were oblivious, but Clarke heard them. She looked dazed, probably just as dazed as he felt, but she smiled, bright.

“I’m in love with you too.” She whispered back. Their hands were still tangled up, and he used the advantage and pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her, and kissed her.

It was easy, like breathing. There was no rush, no hurry, no insatiable quality to the kiss. They breathed each other in, matching breath for breath, until she was smiling against his mouth, and he couldn’t kiss through his own laughter, and then Madi broke the spell.

“Could you not be gross like, 5 seconds after I meet him? Come on mom.” She reminded him of Octavia at that age. A little sassy, but with good intentions. “You can kiss each other later, I don’t wanna _watch_.” She made a face of disgust, curling her lips and wrinkling her nose, and Clarke buried her face in his chest, laughing.

“Listen,” Echo’s voice broke the spell fully, “I’m glad you’re in love, or whatever, and that you finally figured your shit out, but we don’t really have time for this. The kid is right, you can kiss and make eyes at each other later, we’ve got friends to save.”

He shook his head, exasperated, but nodded. Echo was right, they had all the time in the world for this, to have a million conversations, when they were all safe and out of this hell hole. He pulled Clarke up, for one more easy kiss, because he could more than anything else, and then stepped away. He didn’t get far, because she tangled their fingers together, turning to smile at him.

“Alright," She said, never taking her eyes off him, "what’s the plan?”


End file.
